The Retreat(8)

North Wales Police have called off a search of the River Dee and Bala Lake after the presumed drowning of 8-year-old Lily Marsh on New Year’s Day.

Lily had been out walking with her parents on January 1st, along a stretch of the Dee near Beddmawr in Denbighshire.

Her father, Michael Marsh, 42, drowned while trying to rescue his daughter.

According to North Wales Police, Lily had run ahead out of sight. When they caught up, her toy cat was floating in the river, prompting Mr Marsh to jump in.

His wife, Julia, 40, called emergency services, who pulled his body from the water. But emergency services have been unable to recover Lily’s body.

The operation involved police divers, the fire service and river rescue teams. But after an extensive search of the river and the four-mile-long Bala Lake, emergency services have been stood down.

A spokesperson for North Wales Police said, ‘The search was wrapped up yesterday, but our inquiries are ongoing.’

Michael Marsh was an IT manager who had recently moved to the area from Manchester with his family. Lily attended the local primary school, St Peter’s, whose head teacher, Anna Rowland, said, ‘This incident has shocked the entire community and we continue to pray for Lily.’

Mr Marsh’s funeral takes place today.

Poor, poor Julia. I remembered her yelling, ‘Not that room!’ The numberless bedroom next to mine must have been Lily’s. I shuddered, then realised something. Julia was the mother of a child who had disappeared. What if she found out what Sweetmeat was about? Would she chuck me out?

Not for the first time in my life, I felt as if I’d stumbled into the darkness of one of my own stories. Because a river featured heavily in Sweetmeat too. A river that stole kids away from their parents.

In my novel, the victims are taken by a supernatural entity, a creature who lives in the woods and feeds on children’s souls. That was where the title came from: the creature describes the souls as tasting like sugared fruits or candies. And as he consumes them, he whispers ‘Sssssssweetmeat’.

A river runs through the woods, and in one scene the creature drags a little girl into the water. The heroine is a female cop who is investigating the disappearances of half a dozen kids from a small town in rural England. At the end, she goes down to the river and trades her own soul – ‘It’s bitter,’ complains the creature, as it chokes to death – for those of the children, so they are released to Heaven. But because the detective is killed when she gives up her soul, the fate of these kids remains a mystery.

Not the kind of book Julia would want on her bedside table.



I forced myself not to think about Lily Marsh and spent a few hours working on the idea I’d had after stumbling across the rotting hut in the woods. When I came up for air, I was surprised to see it was five in the afternoon. I hadn’t been so absorbed by my writing for a long time, and it felt good.

Not long afterwards there was a knock at my door. It was Karen.

‘We’re heading down to the pub. Fancy joining us?’

I did.

The Miners Arms was on the main road towards Beddmawr. A proper old-fashioned Welsh pub with a roaring fire, horseshoes hanging on the walls and plenty of real ale on tap.

‘I’ll get the first round,’ I said.

A few old men sat propping up the bar and there were two guys playing darts in the corner. They had glanced at us as we entered but lost interest straight away. I guessed they were used to writers coming in. Looking around while I waited to be served, I noticed a creepy painting depicting a woman dressed in red among dark, spiky trees. The woman’s face was concealed by shadows, but she stretched out a bony hand as if beckoning the viewer into the picture. It made me shiver.

I bought the drinks and sat at a round table with Karen, Max and Suzi. Karen was as cheerful as she’d been the day before, but Max and Suzi would barely look at each other. A lovers’ tiff? Max swiftly downed his pint of bitter and announced he was going to play on the quiz machine. I watched him jabbing at the buttons and swearing under his breath.

‘What’s up with him?’ Karen asked. ‘Lost a couple of Twitter followers?’

That made Suzi laugh. She was, I realised, very young. Twenty-three, perhaps? I could hardly remember what it felt like to be her age. I seem to recall I was simultaneously lacking in confidence and thought I knew everything about the world.

‘It’s nothing,’ Suzi said, glancing at me.

Karen spotted the look. ‘Do you want Lucas to bugger off to the quiz machine too? So we can talk woman to woman?’

Suzi stared into her glass of white wine. ‘No. It’s fine. But you both have to promise not to say anything. Okay?’

We promised.

‘I know you probably think there’s something going on between Max and me, but there isn’t. He’s married . . . and I would never do that to another woman. I can’t bear people who cheat. My mum did it to my dad and it almost destroyed our family. It’s disgusting.’

‘I believe you,’ Karen said.

‘Besides, I don’t fancy him. He’s too . . .’

‘Up himself?’ Karen offered.

‘No. Too short.’

Karen laughed.

‘But he has been helping me with my book, giving me lots of advice. I mean, there’s been quite a lot of mansplaining going on, but he has been helpful. I keep telling him how grateful I am. And I think – well, I think he got the wrong impression.’